Irrational TV

I'm too rational to be watching television. The medium has fallen below my threshold of tolerance. The other day I was watching daytime TV and a commercial came on for a new antiperspirant: Secret Clinical Strength. What kind of clinic did this product come from? Are there really people whose armpits stink so bad they've chosen to enter some sort of medical facility for treatment?

And what is in this Secret to bump it all the way up to "clinical strength?" I assume most people's body odor doesn't warrant a clinical diagnosis. Should this product really be mass marketed to people whose stink may only be mildly annoying?

Clearly this is an ad designed to convince women their underarms are potentially dark, putrescent caverns in desperate need of decontamination.

But Secret is hardly alone in alerting people to horribly uncomfortable conditions they never knew they had. Did you know you may have Restless Leg Syndrome? Luckily the TV ad that lets you know you may be at risk also has the solution: Requip, a prescription drug for just such a condition. I know lots of people with Restless Leg Syndrome. I call them joggers.

But that's the nature of the modern advertisement, to bring us to an alternate reality. A beer ad that premiered during this year's Superbowl features two guys in a dispute over the last Bud Light -- that is until one unexpectedly chucks a rock at the head of the other. This maneuver is supposed to make me laugh. But he's not funny; he's an alcoholic. And he just committed assault for a beer.

It's not just commercials that have pushed me beyond the ability to suspend disbelief. I've watched the ABC series "Grey's Anatomy" from the beginning. There's a whole lot of sex going on with the doctors of Seattle Grace Hospital. And in all those sex scenes, I didn't count a single reference to a condom. No lines about jimmy hats, Trojan helmets, body bags, love gloves, baby barriers, snake skins. Not even a shot of an empty wrapper. So I have to assume, being the rationalist that I am, we're watching unsafe, unprotected sex among these medical professionals.

So let's throw a sexually transmitted disease into the mix and chart its progress. Assume the show's lead character, Meredith Grey, has an STD left over from her days in college. In episode one, the hunky Derek (Dr. McDreamy) Shepard checks out of the disease-free club. He then hooks up with his ex-wife Addison -- now she's got it. Meredith sleeps with fellow intern George O'Malley, making four young infected professions. He sleeps with Dr. Callie Torres, his future wife. He also sleeps with intern Izzie Stevens. Meanwhile Addison hops in the sack with former lover and Seattle newcomer Mark (Dr. McStreamy) Sloane and her intern boy toy Alex Karev. Eight of the 12 main characters --all dedicated to serving the public health -- have come in contact with the hypothetical STD, along with a slew of men Meredith was sleeping with when she was going through a sexually self-destructive phase. (One curious statistic in all this -- the four STD-free main characters are minorities, including the show's three black characters. I'm not raising any conspiracy theories; I'm just making an observation.)

So this is why I shouldn't watch TV any more. I'm really over thinking this stuff. I should stick to children's programming: like ABC's "The View." I hear this week they're teaching conflict resolution.

If you really want to talk, send Mike an e-mail. If it's urgent, buy an industrial-size spotlight with a W stencil and shine it into the night sky. Mike looks up regularly to check his messages.